


Focus

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Falling In Love, Staring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eyes are incredibly important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

It’s like magic, when he transforms. It still amazes that it’s all because of her.

Only a few moments ago he was nose-deep in paperwork, not giving her the slightest indication that he had anything on his mind but work. But just one idle brush of her lips against his earlobe and he shifts in position and temperament, awakening like a golem responding to its master, amber eyes growing large, needful and a little dark, hands already searching, and all that military focus shifts entirely onto her.

The weight of his attention is overwhelming, still frightens the love-shy parts of her that remain. But she takes it on just as she would dive into battle, trusting she’ll be victorious.

When she first noticed him watching her, raw and unguarded, she was so startled that she bid him a hasty goodnight and almost tripped over her own feet leaving the war council. By morning she had convinced herself that it had been her imagination, that they were both just exhausted from arguing long after the others had left. But then it kept happening; those Commander eyes softening whenever they fell upon her, gentle but also intense, piercing, so much so that she had to look away while Leliana and Josie poorly hid their smiles or Iron Bull said something inappropriate.

It wasn’t until weeks into their relationship that she could bear to return his stare, to not avert her eyes, to ride out the butterflies in her stomach and allow herself to truly be seen for the first time in her life. It was terrifying, it was exhilarating, it was love.

Her saucier companions like to tease her about him, speculating on his prowess in bed - even Cassandra can’t sate her curiosity. She’s always coy, brushing them off with a quip about not kissing and telling, but the truth is more complicated than maintaining a sense of privacy. How could she possibly explain to anyone that the one thing that sets her on fire is something entirely intangible? Could anyone understand that the way he _looks_ at her means more than his skill with his hips or his tongue? His gaze is her aphrodisiac, her sustenance, her life force, her safe harbor - it is home. It’s a notion she would have scoffed at not too long ago, before her world was blown apart and put back together with him at its core.

The paperwork is forgotten. He fills her sweetly, hands squeezing and caressing in all the right places, but without his eyes looking into hers, _connecting_ , it’s only sex, albeit fantastic sex. No matter which way they twist their bodies, no matter how they fuck, in the end they always come face to face, forehead to forehead, eye to eye, soul to soul. Inhibitions become a distant memory.

She isn’t as brave now, in the afterglow wearing nothing but skin and the remnants of his adoration between her thighs. But she tries anyway, to bear all of herself in a single look - he deserves that much. She tries, but breaks into a nervous giggle and buries her face in his sweat dappled chest.

She lies in his arms and murmurs sweet nothings to his heart instead, listening to his quiet rumbles of approval. She’s always been better at telling rather than showing, anyway.


End file.
